How the Sourwolf Stole Christmas
by He Who Writes His Own Canon
Summary: ONESHOT: In this parody of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas", Derek is the Sourwolf, a creature who plots to steal the joy of Christmas from the denizens of Beacon Hills.


_**A/N**_ : So I was listening to _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_ recently and it became inevitable that in a _Teen Wolf_ -verse, Derek would be the Grinch. The dialogue is taken largely from the animated special with several sections clearly altered for both creative purposes and modernization. As for the story's framing device, it was inspired by the _South Park_ episode "Woodland Critter Christmas", although the characters in the within-story do not interact with the narrator.

* * *

 _Everyone down in Beacon Hills liked Christmas a lot._

 _But the Sourwolf who lived just North of Beacon Hills did not!_

 _The Sourwolf hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season!_

 _Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason._

 _It could be, perhaps, that his frown was always tight._

 _It could be his head wasn't screwed on just right._

 _But I think that the most likely reason of all_

 _May have been that he was an emotionally constipated man who didn't know how to use his words, so he wasn't always right on the ball_

 _But, whatever the reason, his emotional state or his frown_

 _He stood there on Christmas Eve, hating the town_

 _Staring down from his cave with his patented Sourwolf look_

 _At the brightly lit windows that looked like they were out of a book_

 _For he knew everyone down in Beacon Hills beneath_

 _Was busy now hanging a Christmas wreath_

 _"_ And they're hanging their stockings, _" he snarled with a sneer._

 _"_ Tomorrow is Christmas! It's practically here! _"_

 _Then he growled, with his Sourwolf fingers nervously drumming,_

 _"_ I must find some way to keep Christmas from coming!

For, tomorrow, I know all the little girls and boys

Will wake bright and early. They'll rush for their toys!

And then! Oh, the noise! Oh, the noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!

There's one thing I hate! All the noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!

And they'll shriek squeaks and squeals, racing 'round on their wheels... _"_

* * *

"Stiles?" Stiles stopped and looked at Isaac, whose head was in Scott's lap. "Why is Derek always the villain of your stories?"

"Good question." Derek nudged his mate in the side from his spot beside him.

Stiles sighed and reached out, taking Isaac's hand. "Don't worry, he redeems himself, as always." He shot Derek a wink. Derek simply rolled his eyes.

"Not when you told us the story of _Sleeping Beauty_ with Derek as the prince and you as the—" Jackson started to say but Liam pushed him off the bed.

"See, this is why I like you," Stiles chuckled, ruffling Liam's hair. "Anyway..."

* * *

 _"_ They'll dance with jingtinglers tied onto their heels.

They'll blow their floofloovers. They'll bang their tartookas.

They'll blow their whohoopers. They'll bang their gardookas.

They'll spin their trumtookas. They'll slam their slooslunkas.

They'll beat their blumbloopas. They'll wham their whowonkas.

And they'll play noisy games like zoozittacarazy,

A roller-skate type of lacrosse and croquet!

And then they'll make ear-splitting noises galooks

On their great big electro-whocarnio flooks

Then the people, young and old, will sit down to a feast

And they'll feast! And they'll feast! And they'll feast! Feast! Feast! Feast!

They'll feast on plum pudding, and the rarest of Kobe beef

Raw Kobe beef is a feast I can't stand in the least!

And then they'll do something I hate most of all!

Everyone down in Beacon Hills, the tall and the small

They'll stand close together, with Christmas bells ringing

They'll stand hand-in-hand, and they'll start singing

 _"_ Mówią do pasterzy

Którzy trzód swych strzegli

Aby do Betlejem

Czym prędzej pobiegli

Bo się narodził Zbawiciel

Wszego świata Odkupiciel

Gloria, gloria, gloria

In excelsis Deo _"_

And they'll sing! And they'll sing! And they'll sing! Sing! Sing! Sing! _"_

 _And the more the Sourwolf thought of this whole Christmas sing_

 _The more the Sourwolf thought, "_ I must stop this whole thing!

Why, for twenty-three years, I've put up with it now!

I must stop Christmas from coming! But how? _"_

 _Then he got an idea! An awful idea!_

 _The Sourwolf got a wonderful, awful idea!_

 _"_ I know just what to do! _" The Sourwolf laughed in his throat._

 _"_ I'll make a quick Santy Claus hat and a coat. _"_

 _And he chuckled, and clucked, "_ What a great Sourwolf trick!

With this coat and this hat, I'll look just like Saint Nick! _"_

* * *

"You're all aware that for storytelling purposes I have to speak in rhyme and Derek has to sound like a tool, right?" The Pack nodded, eager to hear what happens next. Derek growled quietly. "Quiet or you'll ruin the story."

* * *

 _"_ All I need is a reindeer. _" The Sourwolf looked around._

 _But since reindeer are scarce, there was none to be found_

 _Did that stop the Sourwolf? Hah, the Sourwolf simply said_

 _"_ If I can't find a reindeer, I'll make one instead! _"_

 _So he took his dog Peter_ [Derek snorted] _, and he took some red thread_

 _And he tied a big horn on top of his head_

 _Then he loaded some bags and an old space heater_

 _On a ramshackle sleigh and he whistled for Peter_

* * *

"Space heater?" Derek raised an eyebrow.

"Shut up, it rhymes." Stiles shot back, continuing his story.

* * *

 _Then the Sourwolf said "_ Giddyap! _" and the sleigh started down_

 _Toward the homes where the people lay a-snooze in their town_

 _All their windows were dark. No one knew he was there._

 _All the people were dreaming sweet dreams without care._

 _When he came to the first little house of the square._

 _"_ This is stop number one, _" the old Sourwolf Claus hissed,_

 _As he climbed to the roof, empty bags in his fist_

 _Then he slid down the chimney, a rather tight cramp_

 _But if Santa could do it, so could the Sourwolf_

* * *

"That doesn't rhyme, though," Erica pointed out.

"Find a word that rhymes with _wolf_ and then enlighten me," he said. "Any more interruptions?" The Pack shook their heads. "Okay."

* * *

 _He got stuck only once, for a minute or two_

 _Then he stuck his head out of the fireplace flue_

 _Where the little stockings hung all in a row_

 _"_ These stockings, _" he chuckled, "_ are the first things to go! _"_

 _Then he slithered and slunk, with a smile most unpleasant,_

 _Around the whole room, and he took every present!_

 _Pop guns, Game Boys, Lego, and jump ropes!_

 _Checkerboards, Silly Putty, tea sets, and snowglobes!_

 _And he stuffed them in bags. Then the Sourwolf, very nimbly,_

 _Stuffed all the bags, one by one, up the chimney._

* * *

"Don't even!" Stiles pointed at Scott, who opened his mouth to correct Stiles. "I work with what I got."

* * *

 _Then he slunk to the icebox. He took the people's feast!_

 _He took the plum pudding! He took the Kobe beef!_

 _He cleaned out that icebox as quick as a flash!_

 _Why, that Sourwolf even took the last can of corned beef hash!_

 _Then he stuffed all the food up the chimney with glee._

 _"_ Now, _" grinned the Sourwolf, "_ I will stuff up the tree! _"_

 _As the Sourwolf took the tree, as he started to shove,_

 _He heard a small sound, like the coo of a dove._

 _He turned around fast and saw to his surprise,_

 _Little Stiles and Scott McCall, who were no more than five._

 _They stared at the Sourwolf and said, "_ Santy Claus, why,

Why are you taking our Christmas tree, why? _"_

 _But, you know, that old Sourwolf was so smart and so slick,_

 _He thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick!_

 _"_ Why, my sweet little tots, _" the fake Santy Claus lied,_

 _"_ There's a light on this tree that won't light on one side.

So I'm taking it home to my workshop, my dear

I'll fix it up there, then I'll bring it back here. _"_

 _Stiles whispered to Scott "_ Him I don't believe. _"_

 _Scott looked his big brown eyes at the Sourwolf, before beginning to heave._

 _At the speed of the boy's breathing,_

 _The Sourwolf slipped up the chimney, quickly leaving._

 _He moved on to the next house, where he had no trouble,_

 _But found that here they had double_

 _"_ Must be a big family, _" the Sourwolf mumbled._

 _He got all the presents and food and tree, and very barely stumbled_

 _House to house, the Sourwolf went, taking everything in sight_

 _Peter followed obediently, although deep down, he knew it wasn't right_

* * *

"I like your version better," Isaac smiled. Stiles beamed and ran his fingers through Liam's hair as he went on.

* * *

 _It was quarter of dawn, all the folks still a-bed,_

 _All the people still a-snooze, when he packed up his sled,_

 _Packed it up with presents, their ribbons, their wrappings_

 _Their snoof and their fuzzles, their tringlers and trappings_

 _Five thousand feet up, up the side of Discovery Peak_

 _He rode with his load to the tiptop, with chaos to wreak_

 _"_ Pooh-pooh to the townsfolk! _" He was nastily humming._

 _"_ They're finding out now that no Christmas is coming!

They're just waking up! I know just what they'll do!

Their mouths will hang open a minute or two

Then the folk down in Beacon Hills will all cry boo-hoo!

That's a noise, _" grinned the Sourwolf, "_ that I simply must hear! _"_

 _He paused, and the Sourwolf put a hand to his ear._

 _And he did hear a sound rising over the snow._

 _It started in low, then it started to grow_

 _"_ Mówią do pasterzy

Którzy trzód swych strzegli

Aby do Betlejem

Czym prędzej pobiegli

Bo się narodził Zbawiciel

Wszego świata Odkupiciel

Gloria, gloria, gloria

In excelsis Deo _"_

 _But this sound wasn't sad!_

 _Why, this sounded glad!_

 _Every person down in Beacon Hills, the tall and the small,_

 _Was singing without any presents at all!_

 _He hadn't stopped Christmas from coming! It came!_

 _Somehow or other, it came just the same!_

 _And the Sourwolf, with his paws ice-cold in the snow,_

 _Stood puzzling and puzzling. "_ How could it be so?

It came without ribbons! It came without tags!

It came without packages, boxes, or bags!"

 _He puzzled and puzzed till his puzzler was sore._

 _Then the Sourwolf thought of something he hadn't before._

 _Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store._

 _Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more!_

 _And what happened then? Well, in Beacon Hills, they say_

 _That the Sourwolf's emotional state was resolved that day!_

 _And then the true meaning of Christmas came through,_

 _And the Sourwolf found the strength of ten Sourwolves, plus two!_

 _And now that his head didn't feel quite so tight,_

 _He whizzed with his load through the bright morning light._

 _With a smile to his soul, he descended the ridge_

 _All who looked could only see the smidge_

 _He rode into Beacon Hills. He brought back their toys._

 _He brought back their floof to the little girls and boys._

 _He brought back their snoof and their tringlers and fuzzles_

 _Brought back their tea sets, their dafflers and wuzzles._

 _He brought everything back, all the food for the feast!_

 _And he, he himself, the Sourwolf, carved the Kobe beef!_

 _Welcome Christmas, bring your cheer,_

 _Cheer to all folks, far and near_

 _Christmas Day is in our grasp_

 _So long as we have hands to grasp_

 _Christmas Day will always be_

 _Just as long as we have we_

 _Welcome Christmas while we stand_

 _Heart to heart and hand in hand."_

* * *

Stiles sighed and leaned back against his pillows. "The end." Allison and Lydia cuddled close, near where Scott and Isaac were. "What'd you guys think?"

"Question." Scott raised his hand. "What was that you were singing? Is it Polish?" Stiles nodded. "What does it mean?"

"It's a Polish Christmas carol," Stiles explained. "Years ago, we sung it every Christmas. It means,

" _Mówią do pasterzy_ – They say to the shepherds

 _Którzy trzód swych strzegli_ – Who were watching their flocks

 _Aby do Betlejem_ – To run to Bethlehem

 _Czym prędzej pobiegli_ – As quick as possible

 _Bo się narodził Zbawiciel_ – 'Cause the Savior is born

 _Wszego świata Odkupiciel_ – The Redeemer of the whole world

 _Gloria, gloria, gloria_

 _In excelsis Deo_ – Glory to God in the highest."

"Can we get back to where you always cast Derek as the villain in your stories? Like the Sea _Wolf_ in _The Little Mermaid_ , or the _Warlock_ in _Rapunzel_." Stiles huffed and Liam pushed Jackson off the bed again. "You do that again, twerp, and..."

"Watch it, Jackson," Stiles warned. "Let's not forget who's better at hand-to-hand combat." Jackson flushed and said no more. "Okay, pups, time for bed." They all looked up at Stiles, pouting slightly. "In your own beds. Or you can mate or whatever in whoever else's bed. Just not this one! Not tonight. Little Red needs his Big Bad Wolf." Stiles wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and they all scrambled off the bed. Each of them—Scott, Isaac, Jackson, Liam, Allison, Lydia, Boyd, and Erica—gave Stiles and Derek goodnight kisses and left the room, Scott being the last to leave. He gave Stiles a smile and shut the door.

"Now, about me being an emotionally constipated man who doesn't know how to use his words, that's quite descriptive, don't you think?" Derek tugged his shirt off and looked over at Stiles, who grinned sheepishly.

"It's good storytelling, huh?" Stiles said. Derek easily lifted Stiles off the bed and held the teenager up by the front of his shirt. "What are you doing?"

"I'm not going to use my words," Derek smirked. He proceeded to unzip Stiles' red hoodie. His eyes flashed red and he growled deep in his throat.

"Oh, hell."


End file.
